Vicissitude
by a mountain of gideon's scones
Summary: It's five years after the war, and Angelina is sure that it's time for Katie and Oliver to be together. /for WeasleySeeker's Relate Competition.


**an:** This is my entry for the Relate Competition on HPFC, ran by WeasleySeeker.

It's also an early birthday present for Lucy [WeasleySeeker] for tomorrow; happy birthday for then!

I don't own anything.

* * *

"What do you _mean_, you still haven't been out with Wood?" I can't believe my ears as I sit next to Katie Bell in the chic café that's a mile between both our places of work. "You were _made_ for one another, when you were both at school. It's been five _years_ since the war; I don't think you can use that excuse for much longer." I take a long drink of coffee and watch as Katie's face turns an even brighter pink.

"Angelina, that's sort of the _point_." She ducks her head slightly, and I get the feeling she's not particularly comfortable. Good, that's good; it's a world filled with being uncomfortable, and so she should get used to it. "I haven't seen him since…you know…the _war_. And before that, it was when he left for Puddlemere. I play for his rivals…and we've somehow managed to avoid seeing one another _there_. It's sort of fate showing itself, isn't it? Fate doesn't want us to be together." She sighs deeply, and I wonder if she's being _deliberately_ obtuse, or if there's a chance that she's actually serious.

With Katie, I'm betting the latter is actually the truth.

"Hmpff!" simultaneously rolling my eyes, I let this out, glaring at one of the Muggle customers who turn to look my way in alarm. "Fate. Let me tell you something about _fate_; it doesn't just come and bite you in the backside; you have to go and find the man sometimes, and not just hope that he's going to swing by and tell you how much he wants to _fuck_ you, alright?"

As I look around and realise that people heard the last bit, I think, ok, maybe I should have stopped at the 'sometimes'. Personally, I blame the shots of liquor I had before I came here, but that's a different story. That was 'I-need-to-forget-about-the-horrors-of-my-job' stress, not 'my-best-friend-is-still-pining-for-her-true-love' stress.

"_Angelina_!" Katie says my name in a shocked tone, and I can sort of understand why. I don't regret it, though; we both know that that's what she's waiting for…just perhaps said in a more romantic way. "Well, anyway, even if you _were_ right, there's no chance of anything, none at all. I don't see him, and I can't even use Hogwarts reunion as an excuse because we weren't in the same year."

And that's when the greatest idea I've had since the idea I had for Harry and Ginny to elope with their friends to prevent Mrs Weasley (overbearing mother in law like there's no tomorrow) obsessing over the day of the 'wizarding world saviour' marrying his childhood sweetheart, hits me.

I know how I can get Katie and Oliver together.

We have a party for the war heroes every year; it's basically where we can remember the dead and honour them and stuff, as well as feel important for having helped defeat Voldemort. But this year…this year, I don't really want to do that. I know nobody really does and that it's just protocol, something to make it look as if we need to remember the dead; we do that at home all year, so it's not really that useful – it's more symbolic. This year…this year, I think I can persuade Harry and the others to have a Quidditch reunion, as well as the benefit, of course. Every single person who has ever played for the Gryffindor Quidditch Team will be invited, to stop it being prejudiced towards just our era, and it'll be the perfect bench for me to get Katie and Oliver together. They'll be able to spend the entire night together, and develop into the relationship which we all had bets on at the end of his seventh year.

This could be perfect…but will it _work_?

Leaning forwards to stop any Muggles listening in, I grin at Katie, knowing that she's going to be confused about this. "Leave it to me, Katie…leave it to me. I can come up with a plan that will have you wishing that I had never been involved." It's always good to make people think that the plans are bad; it means they're pleasantly surprised when they're _not_ going to seduce their man by dressing as a stripper.

"I thought you were going to talk about the…you _know_," she looks even more confused as she leans back to her original position, using her hands to mime the usual wand waving we do to mean magic.

"Nah. I just felt like a bit of mystery." Oh wow, I've turned into a better liar since I've been with George, and I'm not sure if this is a good thing. Well, it is for today…it means that I can keep this idea secret, perhaps even for the rest of the- _crap_!

Standing up in a hurry, I gather my bag and jacket together, about to run out of the door before realising that I haven't told Katie I'm leaving. "Late for work, gotta go, bye!" I get out in one breath, wondering if she's understood what I managed to garble out.

I don't really care, though; I've got an idea about how to get together the most perfect couple who should already be together and planning their children. Now, the focus is getting back to work and hoping that my boss doesn't notice the alcohol on my breath.

**~x~**

"Are you completely out of your mind or something?" Katie's voice is far too loud and high pitched for eight o'clock in the morning; I'm pretty sure that the hangover from last night hasn't quite gone yet, and her voice isn't doing anything for me. And anyway, I don't know what she's on about, me being out of my mind. If she's dicussing my night out with George last night, which somehow ended with me calling someone at four fifteen in the morning, then she's off _her_ head, because that's a usual occurrence for a Friday night…wait…unless it was K_atie_ who I called.

I groan slightly as I open my front door slightly wider to let her in, wincing as the sunlight hits me in the face. "Is this about me ringing you this morning?" I ask as we walk through to the living room. "If it is, sorry about that. I just like to socialise when I'm drunk." _Lies_. I just call people when I'm pissed out of my tree.

"No, it's not about that…not that that put me in a particularly good mood, mind." She shuts the door behind her – good idea, since George likes to wander down to the kitchen starkers – and stalks into the room, in her hand a parchment envelope that seems strangely familiar. _Should_ it be this familiar? "Oh, I'm _sure_ you know why I'm here, Angelina, given that you sent these invites to _everyone who has ever played for the Gryffindor Quidditch Team_!"

Oh shit. She knows. I wouldn't have thought that the owls would have gotten to their intended recipients already…_dammit_! I _knew_ I should have used Muggle post! It would have made it a lot easier, and given me a chance to get out of the country before Katie opened her envelope.

"Oh…_that_." I try playing for time, but there's no chance; she's caught me out. "Well…it was a nice idea, no?" Something tells me that she's not going to let me away with this, not in a million years.

"If your idea of a _nice_ one is to spend the night in the room with the man you love, yet he doesn't remember you exist, then _sure_, it's absolutely fucking perfect!" she yells at me. Of course this does nothing for my head, and merely means I get to miss out on hearing her next torrent of abuse, which is thankfully at a lower volume. Good – not only for my head, but for the batty old woman upstairs, who thinks talking louder than a whisper warrants calling the Ministry. I think she's some relative of Katie's, but I've forgotten who; Katie told me when we got drunk one time last year, when I had just moved in here with George.

"Relax, Katie," I sigh, opening my eyes to see her face looming in front of me, looking probably even _more_ angry than before. "All this is, really, is a chance for us all to have a chat, a bit of lamenting on our memories of our House's Quidditch team, and an opportunity for you and Wood to have a little chat, hopefully cumulating in me not seeing you for the rest of the night, alright?"

When she next speaks, it's much softer than before, as though she doesn't want to really be saying it. "But…but what about Fred? _He_ was on the team, Ange; surely it'll be a bit awkward?"

I had thought about that. I had…I have, even. I've considered whether or not I should bring up old memories, ones that linger so much on regret and the question of what could have been. I did, until I remembered that there are many more Gryffindor Quidditch members who have died, especially those in the War, and that to cancel it just because we can't handle Fred's memory is selfish…this isn't just for Katie and Oliver. This is for us all, for us to remember that we _did_ get a chance for happiness in Hogwarts, that we made friends who have stayed with us for the entire way.

"It'll be as awkward as it will be for James Jordan – Lee's dad – who knew Lindsay MacDonald, who was killed," I remind her, wondering if I should continue. "We've been friends since you started on the team, Katie; shouldn't we remember what brought us together, what had us spending all our money in Hogsmeade and me sleeping at yours every single Monday and Friday in the holidays, no matter what we were doing or what we were expected to do? The Quidditch Team brought us together, and it's more than just a chance for me to get you and Oliver together; it's a chance for us to remember just _why_ we're friends."

She smiles, and for the first time this morning, I feel as though she's no longer mad at me. "Ok, but only if I get to tell the story about the time when I hit you in the face with the Quaffle in my first practise."

Even though it hurts my head more than a bit to smile, I do it anyway. "Deal. But only if you tell Wood how you feel."

She groans audibly, gripping the invitation in her hand in a slightly more caring manner than before – if, you know, one can care for an invite. "Ok, fine. But only because I know you'll _never_ give up if I don't."

She's right. I won't.

_~x~_

"I can't do this, Angelina!" of course, five minutes before the party starts and people start arriving at the Quidditch Pitch – I managed to get Professor McGonagall to let us have the Hogwarts pitch, for nostalgia – Katie is telling me that she can't do it, that she can't face Oliver _now_, because she doesn't know what to say. Well, she's actually been doing it for the past three hours, and probably every day since she found out about it, but it's really serious this time.

"Your dress looks fabulous – better than mine, if that's possible – and _no_, Oliver is _not_ bringing a date, before you ask for the millionth time. You love him, and I'm sure he feels the same way, so just relax, or help me with these final touches." Wondering if this is enough to calm her down, I place my hand on her shoulder, and she doesn't jump, the way she would if she were still completely worked up. "On second thoughts, don't help me. You'd probably set fire to something."

"That would be _my_ speciality, not Katie's." a familiar voice greets us, and we turn around to see Seamus Finnigan, of Harry's year, standing behind us.

For a second, I wonder _how_ he got the invite, before I remember the other week, when Katie was helping with the guest list, and she _insisted_ he had to come, because he had played for about three seconds in his seventh year, before the match was called off because the Carrows decided that Gryffindor didn't deserve to play. I don't know how she knows, to be honest, but I didn't question it, and here he is.

"Head through there and that's where the party is; Harry and the Weasleys are already in there," I tell him with a smile, deciding that I'll keep Katie out here before she can then panic over Oliver Wood not being here yet, and then her telling everyone that she loves him. It wouldn't exactly be new news, true, but I don't think they'd particularly want to hear it.

_~x~_

Within fifteen minutes, however, the calm exterior Katie just about managed to have up is fading fast. The party started ten minutes ago, and apparently, the fact that he isn't here yet suggests that he isn't coming.

I neglect to mention the fact that ninety percent of the people who RSVP'd yes have arrived yet, and that he's probably going to arrive with a group of them, because then that gets her frantic that his girlfriend is an ex-Gryffindor player. Believe me, I've heard this enough throughout the past few weeks; I do _not_ need to hear it again!

"Oh look, _there_ he is, Katie!" I say to her calmly, pointing at the group of people making their way down the hill in the distance. They're barely visible due to the angle of the setting sun and the way that the castle casts a shadow over them, yet even Katie can distinguish Wood's burly frame from the rest of the ex-team mates, and the fact that there are no girls around him gives me the hope that she won't give the spiel about the girlfriend again.

"Hi, Angelina." His voice is exactly the same as I remember it, and he looks just the same as he did at eighteen as well; there's nothing different about him, other than perhaps his suit costs a bit more.

"Wood, it's been a long time." I smile back as I give him a hug, waiting for Katie to come over to say hi – to start the ball rolling – but she doesn't. She's standing behind us, frozen to the spot, and even my frantic eye movements and hand gestures don't get her to move closer to us; she's just standing there, watching him pass.

"It has…party through this way?" as I turn back to look at him, I notice his eyes on Katie before reverting back to me quickly, and even as I give confirmation of this fact, she doesn't move.

Not until he has gone through and there's no chance of him hearing her, does she speak, or move a muscle. "_Fuck_."

"You don't say," I reply dryly, greeting the others before continuing to talk to Katie. "You had the perfect opportunity then, and you blew it."

"I was scared, Ange!" she replies fiercely, her voice slightly squeaky, the way it always gets when she's defensive. "I didn't know what to say to him, alright? It was scary…I just was so focused on seeing him, that I didn't consider what I was going to say, you know?"

"Yeah, I know. Just go through to the party, avoid him if you want, and I'll see you in a bit, yeah?"

"See you in there," she replies, and turns to walk away before turning back for a second. "I _am_ thankful to you, for this opportunity, though. I…thank you, Angelina."

It would just help if she didn't fuck up every chance for her happiness, wouldn't it?

_~x~_

Another half an hour later and every single person who is coming has arrived, so I head through to the party to see that the Weasleys have commandeered the brooms and are drawing up rotas to compare Quidditch teams. To get around Fred's death, they've decided to play from Harry's sixth year, so I don't have to be part of it, though I can hear some complaints.

"Where the hell is Katie, though?" one of the beaters who replaced the Weasleys is saying. "Or should Dean play, since he was on the team for a while?"

It's decided that Dean will play, though I personally can't help but wonder just _where_ Katie is, when I bump into Oliver.

"Hey again!" I'm slightly too cheerful as I see him, before the realisation that she must have avoided him hits home, and I'm no longer as happy. "Have you seen Katie?"

"No, I wanted to talk to her, but I can't find her…do you need to go and have _another_ girly chat, Angelina? I remember you were always so fond of them, back in the day."

"Believe me, Oliver, I don't want that," I reply, smiling a little despite myself. I wonder…should I do what she _should_ do, yet I know she won't? Should I tell her secret to Oliver Wood, in the hope that he feels the same way, and then he can find her? "I…I was wondering if she had found _you_, actually." I decide to, a brash decision which won't cost me anything because if he doesn't feel the same way, so doesn't find her and she doesn't look for him, she will never know.

His brow furrows in confusion as to why she'd want to speak to him, I guess. "But she didn't want to speak to me earlier, when I got here…"

"She was scared. I guess the feeling you get when you tell someone you love them as a teenager doesn't change when you're in your twenties, if the love is from…_shit_!" I realise as I babble, that I've just told him how she feels, with no build up or _anything_. I've got such a fucking huge mouth, it can't be compared…_fuck_, why did I do that?

"Wait…_what_?" he doesn't look as if he's followed, especially with what he says, and my heart lifts slightly…until he continues. "You mean that she's loved me as long as I've loved her, and she's too scared to tell me?"

_What the fuck is happening_?

So now, Oliver Wood has loved my best friend as long as she's loved him, yet they've both been too chicken to tell the other, so it's continued till now, when it's been discovered by chance, because I have too big a mouth?

_Is this actually real_?

"That's what I said, Wood, so unless you've gotten the wrong end of the stick, yes, that is correct."

"Wow…I never expected that," he mutters, and the mood changes; I get the feeling that he may actually have the bravery to go and find her and tell her, rather than skulk around like he has done before. "You know, I never thought she liked me. I thought that when she didn't speak to me at the Battle, really, and never replied to my letters, that she didn't…" he starts to explain something or other, but I clap my hands together, deciding that this has gone on long enough.

"_Go_!" I order. "Find her, and don't come back till you do. That's an order, Wood."

"I was your Captain, remember," he reminds me, and it's a proper smile I plaster on my place when I reply.

"And I was a Captain as well. And I did a damned better job than you. So scoot to it!"

It's with relish that I watch him run off, before the anticipation starts.

_Will he find her_?

_~x~_

"OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD, OHMYFUCKINGGOD, I CAN'T!" I feel as though my ear has been blown off, the volume at which Katie is speaking in m ear. "He fucking found me and kissed me and told me that he loves me and has done forever, and wow I really don't know what to say other than that I'm really, really, really, really, really happy and that I don't know what I would have said and wow, this is so surreal isn't it?" she manages to get through about three or four sentences' worth of vocabulary in one, and in about three seconds flat, which is an accomplishment, even for the fast speaker my best friend is.

"Having fun, then?" I smile, handing her a glass of water. "Here, you look as if you're going to drop down from dehydration. Was it all you wanted, then?"

As she starts to talk, I get reminded of those secret dorm sleepovers we had, and the ones in the holidays, when she mooned over Oliver and how amazing he was, and that she wanted to be with him more than _anything_. She always sounded so sure that they would be happy, and I always knew that she would be.

"More," she sounds confident as she speaks, and I can't help but laugh. "What? I know, I know, it's corny, but it's the truth. Just don't tell him that, ok?"

"Why would I do that?"

"Because you're about to hate me," she replies, her tone matter of fact. Before I can ask why, she continues – once again, all in one breath. "I sort of told Charlie Weasley's team that you think that you're the world's best Seeker, so we've been challenged to a match, something _you_ accepted."

She's right. I could kill her.

Or, I could…only if we lose, though. If we do, then Oliver gets to know everything.

As I tell her this, she just laughs and loops her arm through mine as we walk over to the designated Quidditch tournament area. "Deal…but know that that'll never happen."

Part of me isn't so sure…

* * *

**an2:** I'd appreciate it if you didn't favourite without reviewing, thank you.

Vicky xx


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